"You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester. At this juncture, and just as a cuckoo-clock in the corner struck sis, Jack Sheppard walked into the room, with the packing-case under his arm. ” Anna nodded. The face of the man who lay there was clearly visible. His complexion was pale; and there was something sinister in the expression of his large black eyes. Wild's intention, doubtless, was to use you as far as he found necessary, and then to sell you.
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